Wings of Tavea

Chapter FIVE

The Canyon


THEY HAD BEEN FLYING in silence for hours. Drustan’s Pegasus head swiveled constantly from side to side, taking in the landscape. The tension had been thick when Kiora had finally woke to find the horses released and Emane, Drustan, and Alcander silently waiting for her.

Below them, deep canyons carved their way through the land. Kiora had seen a river earlier, but it seemed to have vanished. Looking closer she saw evidence that multiple rivers had once carved their way through here, but over time had vanished. Some had left deep canyons, while others were nothing more than small fissures in the rock.

Finally breaking the silence, Alcander asked, “You have promised to tell me what you are.”

Kiora smiled. “Human.”

There was a very long pause. Kiora didn’t bother to look back at Alcander; she could imagine his expression.

“What?” Alcander asked.

“Human,” Kiora repeated. “Emane and I are both human.”

She heard Alcander take a deep, slow breath through his nose. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to calm himself or come to terms with what she had just said.

“Human,” Alcander repeated. “That is not possible. The legends say humans are non-magical Witows.”

“Most humans are,” Kiora said calmly, enjoying the feeling of the wind whipping through her hair. “But there are a few exceptions.”

Alcander was very quiet.

“You took it better than I thought,” Drustan yelled back.

Alcander still did not say anything.

Just as Kiora was ready to tell Alcander that she needed him to take over the bubble, he announced, “Take us down here.”

Kiora looked where he was pointing as Drustan dropped into one of the larger canyons. Landing at the bottom, Drustan’s hoofs kicked up a cloud of dust on the dry and dusty ground—lacking the moisture that had created it. Alcander dropped off Drustan’s back with barely a sound, motioning for the others to follow.

“Keep the bubble up until we pass through the barrier,” Alcander instructed Kiora.

Drustan morphed back into human form as the group followed Alcander under the shade of the overhanging ledge. Kiora could feel the hum of magic generated by the barrier as she stepped underneath it and dropped her bubble. Alcander pressed his hand against the canyon wall and the magical enchantment faded, revealing a large cave opening.

“A cave, again,” Kiora said, peering into the darkness. “Why does it always have to be a cave?”

“It’s not so bad,” Alcander said.

Emane took a step backwards, craning his neck to look up at the canyon wall that towered above them. Realizing what he had done, Kiora turned to warn him but Alcander was faster.

“No!” Alcander shouted, running at Emane.

Emane jolted. “What—?”

Alcander grabbed a fistful of Emane’s shirt, jerking him back within the protection of the barrier. “You fool!”

“Get off me,” Emane yelled, shoving him backwards with both hands.

Alcander’s hands rose, his palms out, magic flickering across his fingers.

“Stop,” Kiora yelled, placing herself between the two glaring men. “Just stop it.”

Alcander’s muscles were tense and his eyes narrowed to icy slits, locked on Emane. “You stepped out of the enchantment.”

“Alcander,” Kiora pleaded. “He didn’t know.”

“You might as well have drawn the world a map for how to get here,” he spat. “Let’s just hope the appearance of a thread with so little magical significance is of no consequence to them.”

Kiora cringed under the assault and glanced back at Emane, whose face was flaming red. His chest was heaving, his hand clenched so firmly around the hilt of his sword his knuckles had turned white.

Alcander turned neatly on a heel and led the way into the cave. He plucked a torch from the wall. Wordlessly, he held the torch out to Kiora.

Kiora breathed deeply through her nose, reaching out to kindle a fire on the end of the torch. She knew it wasn’t Emane’s fault—he couldn’t feel the hum of magic as you passed through a barrier, and he couldn’t see it. He had only taken one step back, but . . . it didn’t matter. The damage had already been done.

Alcander turned without another word, walking proudly into the darkness. She didn’t feel right being mad at Emane, but. as much as she hated to admit it, Alcander was completely justified in his anger.

The air inside the cave was moist, but lacked the stale dampness she was used to. They had not gone far when Kiora noticed the sound of water growing louder and louder the further they walked, sounding like the roar of a rushing river. “Where is that coming from?” she finally asked Alcander.

“Did you notice the river that vanished on our way here?” Alcander asked her over his shoulder. Kiora nodded. “It runs underground; we are getting close to it now.”

It wasn’t but five minutes later that the group came upon the black river rushing out from the rock. There was a section of the river, maybe twenty feet long and six feet across, that roared towards the surface before disappearing under the rock. With the little light that Alcander was carrying, Kiora could see the outline of a small arched wooden bridge that spanned the exposed river. It was small and low to the ground, and reminded her of a decorative one that sat in the castle gardens in Meros. They crossed over it and continued through. Within another five minutes the cave began to lighten and Alcander put out his torch.

“Where is the light coming from?” Emane asked.

“We are almost there,” Alcander said tightly.

A few more minutes and they stepped out of the cave, looking over an immense canyon. Kiora placed her hand over her eyes to shield the light. They had emerged very high up on the canyon wall, looking out over a village below. Some of the homes were on the ground while others poked oddly out of the canyon walls. But what caught Kiora’s immediate attention was the very long rope bridge that stretched out in front of them. Kiora bit her cheek in an attempt not to yelp. It looked remarkably similar to the one she had encountered back with the Shifters. Only this was longer and higher. It didn’t help that the wooden slats had wider gaps in between. Or the fact that it was broad daylight and she could clearly see how far it was to the ground. Kiora’s heart raced and her palms began to sweat as Alcander took the first step onto the bridge. It swayed back and forth with his weight. Kiora backed up involuntarily and bumped into Emane. He grabbed her.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Emane whispered in her ear. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

Alcander and Drustan were already halfway across the bridge before they realized no one was following them. Alcander looked back to Kiora and Emane who had their heads close together, whispering. “What is the matter?” he yelled.

Kiora’s head popped up. “Nothing!” she said, her voice squeaking. She tried to clear her throat but Emane stepped in.

“She’s just a little afraid of bridges, that’s all,” Emane yelled back.

Kiora slugged him in the arm. “Emane!”

“She is afraid of bridges,” Alcander repeated dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“Quite,” Drustan said, smirking.

“You’re afraid of bridges?” Alcander yelled back to Kiora.

“Not all bridges. Just ones made of rope, swinging over a 300-foot deep canyon! Who makes a bridge out of rope?”

“Everybody,” Alcander said, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

“Obviously,” Kiora murmured under her breath. She didn’t have time to yell before Emane picked her up and started out on to the bridge.

“You really should learn to deal with this,” Emane said keeping his eyes on the bridge on front of him. “There may come a time when I will not be there to carry you across.”

Kiora squeezed her eyes closed and shoved her head into Emane’s chest, gripping his shirt with everything she had.

“I could call Arturo,” Kiora retorted through clenched teeth.

“Who is Arturo?” Alcander asked.

Kiora bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if she should have mentioned him or not. “A Pegasus.”

She was met with silence again. She was too terrified to open her eyes and look at his face, but she was beginning to really dislike the silence she got anytime she told him anything.

Finally feeling solid ground beneath Emane’s feet, Kiora opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Alcander’s sharp face looking at her with bewilderment.

“What?” Kiora demanded, smoothing her clothes out with some indignation as Emane set her back on the ground. It was bad enough she was terrified of these stupid bridges. Worse than that, she had an audience every time she ran into one.

Alcander just shook his head. “Nothing.” He turned and led them down the narrow ledge that wound its way to the bottom of the canyon.

“What is this place?” Kiora asked, gazing around. The two canyon walls went straight up, almost meeting at the top. Sunlight streamed in through the crack between them, lighting the entire canyon. This must have been what was underneath the small fissures she has seen from the air. A waterfall poured out of the opposite canyon wall they had just crossed from, dropping down into a river that ran through the middle of the canyon before disappearing again into the earth where the two walls closed together at the end. The canyon was elliptical, wide in the middle and narrowing at both ends. Lush greenery fed on the river that flowed through. Homes dotted the canyon floor. She was curious about the homes that protruded high on the canyon walls. They did not follow the path, and she could see no means of getting to them.

“This is my current home,” Alcander answered. “It is also where Lomay has been hiding for some time.”

Kiora was impressed and overwhelmed by the beauty of the area. It was by far the best cave she had ever been in, because it really wasn’t a cave at all. But even more than the beauty that surrounded her, Kiora was impressed by the strength of the threads she felt. They thrummed through her, powerful in their magic. The only thread in the canyon that did not feel distinctly good marched in front of them—Alcander. But with each step that was changing as well. Kiora monitored it as she went. Alcander had asked her if she could disguise her thread. He obviously could, and now in his home, he was letting that disguise fall away, revealing a thread of good.

The closer Kiora got to the bottom, the more people stopped what they were doing to watch the new trio entering their hideout. Even the children stopped playing to watch. It was an effort to keep herself from staring at all the different sizes and shapes. She could feel Shifters among them in a variety forms. But there were others—beautiful women with wings on their backs, others with skin so black it was as dark as night. Some were barely two feet tall and skinny as sticks, with large ears. Although a few eyes were on her and Emane, most were on Drustan. They scanned him from top to bottom, whispering to each other before their eyes flickered to Alcander, who made a quick motion with his hand. All the occupants immediately ducked back into their homes.

“You must not get many visitors,” Emane said.

“Not like you two,” Alcander replied. “Both of your threads are unique. And then there is the way you look.”

Kiora had a sudden urge to pull her hood back over her head.

Alcander led them through the middle of the village. A few small faces peeked out their windows before their mothers pulled them away.

“They listen well to you, don’t they?” Emane remarked, scanning the empty windows.

Alcander ignored him.

Kiora had a few questions she wanted to ask, but just as she opened her mouth she saw a little old man hobble out of one of the larger houses, bent over at the waist and leaning on a walking stick. He was thin with gray, stringy hair and wrinkles that covered his face. The wrinkles tried their best to hang down, but were forced upwards by the enormous smile that was plastered there. The little old man hobbled onward with an excitement that was evident by the hop in his step.

“Alcander!” the man said joyfully. “So good to have you home.” He smiled at the group. “And you have found what I sent someone else after. We will have to get word to him.”

“Thank you, Lomay,” Alcander said.

Lomay, this was Lomay! The entire group perked up.

The old man hobbled closer. Epona had said he was one of the Ancient Ones. The only Ancient One Kiora had ever met was Epona, who was quiet and distinguished. She stood tall, with an elegance about her—a graceful poise. This man, Lomay, was none of those things. In fact, he looked like a child trapped in a very old body. Kiora couldn’t help but smile. She saw in his eyes that Lomay wanted to run and skip, but his body simply wouldn’t allow it. Those eyes danced with joy and laughter, as if he knew a joke nobody else did. Lomay was so different from the person Kiora had imagined him to be.

“Hello! Hello, all of you. Welcome to our home,” Lomay exclaimed, grabbing Kiora’s hand and kissing it. “My lady, so nice to meet you.” He hobbled faster than he should have over to Emane and stumbled on the hem of his robe. Emane caught him as he went down. “Thank you,” Lomay chuckled. “I get too excited at times.” Lomay grabbed onto Emane’s upper arm as he pulled himself up. “Oh, how exciting. I cannot wait to see this, my boy.” He tapped the snake through the Emane’s shirt

Emane looked over Lomay’s head to Kiora with a bemused look on his face.

“Epona sent word of your coming,” Lomay continued as he made his way up the steps, motioning to the rest that they should follow. “It was a little jumbled, still blocked by magic I would assume, but I got most of it.”

Kiora followed behind Lomay up the stairs into a very humble, rustic home.

“My old eyes have waited a long time for you.” Lomay groaned as he lowered himself into a wooden armchair. “Please, sit down.”

Kiora and Emane sat down on a couch made of weathered wood, whose stain had long since come off. Drustan took a seat on a chair that looked remarkably like a stump of wood. Alcander apparently preferred to stand and he leaned against the doorframe. “Where are my manners?” Lomay corrected himself. “Are you hungry?”

Alcander answered for them. “We have not eaten since breakfast. I am sure they are hungry.”

“You did not feed them, Alcander?” Lomay asked, leaning back in his chair. “I am surprised at you. Such important guests and you starve them. Get them some fruit and bread, that should hold them until dinner.”

Alcander pursed his lips. Pushing himself off the doorframe, he walked to the kitchen.

While Lomay talked, Alcander passed out food. Kiora tried not to devour it for manner’s sake, but she was starving.

“Did you travel well?” Lomay asked, eyeing the group. “I hope you did not run into much trouble.”

Alcander snorted, returning to the doorframe.

Lomay’s large eyebrows pulled tightly together. “There was trouble? What kind of trouble?”

“For one, they don’t know how to mask their threads,” Alcander said in disgust. “I felt things stirring that have not moved for some time.”

Lomay’s eyes darkened. “Oh dear. Epona did not teach you how to mask your thread?”

There was a long pause before Kiora finally looked up from her apple. Lomay apparently wanted an answer this time. “There is no need for it where we are from.”

“Really?” His eyes lightened again. Curiosity seemed to be a good remedy for his concern. “You will have to tell me all about what happened. I have wondered for so long what happened.” His eyes grew distant for a moment before sharpening back on Kiora. “What trouble did you have?”

“There was an Aktoowa and an Illusionist,” Drustan answered.

“An Aktoowa is nothing new, but an illusionist . . .” Lomay’s head turned to the side, looking at Kiora. “What did it want?”

“Me,” Emane said.

“You, really? What was it interested in, do you know?” Lomay leaned forward, waiting for the answer.

“The same thing you were,” Emane answered through a mouthful of bread.

“Oh, yes!” Lomay said, his eyes suddenly regaining that child-like excitement Kiora had noticed earlier. “How could I have forgotten so quickly? I must see it. Do you mind?” Lomay leaned so far forward Kiora was worried he was going to topple right out of his chair.

Emane placed the remainder of his bread on the couch next to him. “Do you want me to just . . . umm . . .”

“Oh yes, boy, remove your shirt.” Lomay waggled his wrinkled fingers. “No need to be shy.”

Kiora stifled a giggle.

Emane stood warily before unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off, revealing the same glittering snake that had caught Alcander’s attention.

“Ancient of ancients,” Lomay whispered. “It is as I saw.” Nearly falling forward, he got his feet underneath him and hobbled over. Reverently, Lomay ran his fingers over the snake’s body, tracing it as it wrapped around Emane’s arm. Emane looked over to Kiora, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“It is beautiful. Just remarkable,” Lomay said before jerking out of his revere. “The Illusionist saw this?”

“Yes.”

“Did it say anything?”

Emane swallowed. “It kept saying it was nice and they would like it.”

“At least it did not know what it was looking at,” Lomay said, patting Emane’s arm. “We can be thankful it didn’t get you to a buyer.”

“A buyer?” Emane asked.

“Of course, my boy.”

“They are not aware of anything that goes on here,” Alcander told Lomay.“Interesting. It looks like we have more to discuss than I thought. I was so excited to learn of your world, I did not stop to think that you would need to learn of ours. Thank the creators for the Wings. I don’t think I could talk long enough to explain everything.”

“I am sure you could,” Alcander muttered under his breath.

Kiora frowned at Alcander while asking Lomay, “You have wings?”

“Well yes, not wing wings. I can’t fly.” Lomay chuckled. Alcander huffed in annoyance. “But the Wings, yes. How do you think Epona sent her message?”

“I didn’t know they could send messages. I thought they were just for showing you the past and present,” Kiora said.

Lomay laughed again. “My dear girl, they are a powerful source of magic, they are capable of many things.” He stopped talking and stared at Kiora and Emane until Alcander cleared his throat. It snapped Lomay out of his trance. “I am so thrilled you are here. Even the possibility is exciting. We have much to talk about. Alcander, please find suitable accommodations for our guests so they may rest. After dinner we will talk.”

* * *

ALCANDER BROUGHT KIORA, EMANE, and Drustan to one of the larger homes in the canyon. It looked similar to the stone cottage Kiora had been raised in back in Meros, only larger. It was open and airy and meticulously kept. Alcander showed them the bedrooms. There were three, each with a beautiful bed in it. They were not wooden like Lomay’s furniture, but crafted from iron. The ironwork on the bed in the first room was thin and delicate with scrolling designs. The other two were much more masculine. Their iron was thicker and designed with straight angular lines. One of the beds was large, the other barely large enough to fit one person. There were blankets and clothes for the three travelers. Kiora sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing the blanket out to the side of her.

“This looks like it was prepared for us,” Emane said suspiciously. “I thought Lomay didn’t know you were bringing us back?”

Alcander evaluated him coolly before answering, “He knew you were coming. He obviously didn’t know I was coming—” He paused. “Considering he has given you residence in my home.” Stepping closer to Emane, Alcander added, “Besides, Witow, magic crosses boundaries you can not possible understand.”

“Do not call me that,” Emane growled, posturing for a fight.

“It is what you are.” Alcander waved him off as nothing more than an annoying gnat.

“No,” Emane snapped, leaning into Alcander. “It is what you see me as.”

“Emane,” Drustan warned.

Alcander’s eyes narrowed. “I fail to see the difference.”

“Of course you do.” Emane pointed a finger accusingly. “You balance peoples’ worth on how much magic they can do.”

“You do not know what you speak of.” Alcander eyed Emane’s finger, his own fingers splayed at his sides.

“Don’t I? You tell me, out of the three of us—” Emane motioned to Kiora and Drustan. “Which one of us would you leave home in a battle?”

“You.”

Emane sneered at him. “That is because you know nothing of who I am.”

Kiora stood. “That is enough.” Stepping between the two, she addressed Alcander. “Thank you for allowing us to stay here. Where will you be sleeping tonight?”

“I will find accommodations,” Alcander said. With a gentle bow of his head directed only at Kiora, he added, “Enjoy your evening.”

“We will see you at dinner?” Kiora asked.

“Perhaps.” Alcander turned and walked out the door, his back rigid.

Emane dropped onto the bed, breathing hard. Kiora was slammed with wall upon wall of anger rolling off him. She sat down gently next to him, taking his hand in hers.

“It’s all right,” Kiora whispered, running her thumb over the back of Emane’s hand.

“No, it’s not all right!” Emane yelled, jerking his hand out her grasp. “This place is . . . I don’t know. They are not telling us something. And he—” Emane flung his arm at the door Alcander had exited from, “is the most arrogant, pompous, self centered—” Emane stood, pacing around the room, neatly avoiding Drustan who was still standing in the middle of the floor. “He treats me like a piece of garbage that needs to be disposed of. Witow.” He spat. “I hate that word. I have hated it from the moment I heard it. The way they say it, they might as well say worthless.”

“The word actually stems from the word ‘without,’” Drustan corrected calmly.

“Drustan,” Emane roared, whirling on him. “You are no better than he is half the time.”

Drustan opened his mouth but shut it again after Kiora shook her head at him. Clearing his throat, he said, “Perhaps I should go and let you two talk.”

“Thank you,” Emane yelled at the morphing Drustan. A small bird flew out the door.

“Why, Kiora?” Emane asked. “Why am I the Protector? There is not a single person that understands it.”

“Emane, stop,” Kiora said gently. “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

“Easy for you to say, you are the Solus. Alcander was falling all over you when he figured out who you were.”

Kiora clasped her fingers in her lap. “And you would rather he bowed to you?”

“No. Just a little respect would be nice.” Emane ground his teeth, looking away from her. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“You don’t think so?”

Emane set his jaw, staring forward.

“You forget I am the girl that had visions of people dying. I was treated as worthless by the people that mattered most to me.”

Emane’s face softened, his eyes closing. “Kiora, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“No, its ok,” she said. “You are used to people respecting you because of who you are. Nobody got to know you before they bowed. It is hard for you to have to prove yourself, I understand.”

His waves of anger lessened in intensity. Going to her, Emane pulled her up and into his chest. “I am sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

“You have a right to be angry. He does treat you horribly.” Kiora leaned her head against him. “I am sure Alcander will come around though. He will see who you are. Everybody else has.”

Emane placed one finger gently under Kiora’s chin. Leaning down he kissed her lightly on the lips. She trembled. His kisses were better than magic. He kissed her harder this time, pulling her into him, and her magic roared in response. Ever since the change she could not feel pleasure, at least not the kind she felt while kissing him, and keep her magic under control at the same time. Wrapping her hands around the back of his head she kissed him back, fiercely pushing at the rising magic. But when his lips began moving down her neck, her focus was torn between her magic and the softness of his lips brushing against her skin.

“Emane, stop, I can’t hold it,” Kiora gasped.

He moaned in frustration and kissed her neck one more time. It was one time too many. The bubble of magic rising within her exploded out of control. It picked Emane up and sent him flying across the room. He slammed into the wall. The wall shook under the impact. Emane fell to the ground, limp.

“Emane!” Kiora ran over to him, sliding across the floor. “Emane!” she cried, lifting his head into her lap. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry!” Running her fingers through his hair she whimpered, “Please wake up, please.” Tears began rolling down her cheeks. He was breathing, but unconscious. Kiora yelled out the open door. “Drustan! Help!” Leaning down over Emane she kissed him on the forehead. “Please wake up, Emane, please.”

A shadow blocked the door like a dark cloud. “What happened?” a voice demanded.

Kiora looked up, startled. “Alcander.”

Alcander evaluated the situation, his eyes sliding over Emane. “What happened?” he repeated.

“It was me,” Kiora said, wiping at her face. “It was an accident. Please, can you help him?”

“I can’t. I will get someone who can.” Alcander quickly walked out.

Within a few minutes Lomay hobbled into the room. “What happened?”

“It was an accident,” Kiora said. “I hit him with magic. I didn’t mean to.”

Lomay’s eyebrows rose. “Interesting accident.” Crouching slowly beside her, Lomay felt Emane’s neck for his pulse. “He is just unconscious.” Lomay looked up at Kiora. “I could bring him out of it, but he might be enjoying the rest.”

“Please, wake him up. I have to make sure he’s all right.”

“Would you like to tell me what happened?”

She glanced at Alcander, who had followed Lomay back. He was looking at her with an odd expression on his face.

“No, not right now.”

“I see. Perhaps later then.” Kiora could have sworn she saw a smile play at the edge of Lomay’s mouth. “Very well, if you are sure.” Lomay touched Emane’s forehead. Blinking, Emane looked up.

“Welcome back,” Lomay said, before winking at Kiora. Groaning, Lomay pushed himself to his feet. “See you at dinner,” he said cheerfully as he hobbled out of the room. Alcander turned, silently following Lomay out the door.

Emane moaned and rubbed his head. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry.” Kiora said, gently pushing his hair back off his forehead. “I lost control of my magic. When you kiss me . . . I lose control.”

“Why am I so cursed?” Emane moaned.

“I know, I’m sorry. You can’t even kiss me!”

“No, it’s not that. Well, partially that,” he amended. “But why was I cursed to be such a unbelievable kisser?”

“Emane!”

He sat up rubbing his head. “No, really. If I wasn’t so blasted good at it, maybe this wouldn’t happen.” Emane smirked.

“I cannot believe you are making jokes about this,” Kiora said, dropping back onto her heels. “I could have killed you.”

“It was worth it.” He dropped against the wall with a satisfied look on his face.

She rolled her eyes, pushed herself to her feet, and offered Emane her hand. “Come on, you are going to lay down before dinner.”

“Will you lay with me?” he asked, stumbling forward as she pulled him up.

“No,” Kiora said, putting her hands on her hips. “You obviously didn’t learn your lesson the last time, and you are dumb enough to try it again.”

“I told you, it was worth it.” Emane grinned as he lay back on his bed.

“You really did hit your head hard.”

“Not hard enough to forget that kiss,” he said, placing his arms behind his head and crossing one ankle over the other.

“You are ridiculous.” Kiora sighed, her cheeks flushing.

“I know,” he mumbled. Closing his eyes, Emane drifted to sleep, murmuring something about it not being fair.

* * *

AS EMANE SLEPT, KIORA slipped out of the house. Plopping down onto the front doorstep, Kiora placed her elbows on her knees and dropped her chin in her hands. The wide assortment of people that lived here were all scurrying about getting ready for dinner. They were trying not to stare at her and she was trying not to stare at them. Some were better at it than others.

A little boy with large, white wings sprouting out of his back and red hair was peeking at her from around his mother’s leg. Kiora smiled at him and he perked up immediately, smiling back at her. He waited until his mother wasn’t looking and then scampered over to her.

“Hello,” Kiora whispered, trying not to out him to his mother.

“Your thread feels nice,” he whispered back.

She grinned. “Thank you. Yours feels nice too.”

“Where did you come from?” he asked, leaning forward on his toes, his wings fanning out behind him.

“Someplace very far away.”

The boy’s mother realized he was gone and came after him. “I am sorry, my lady.” She gave a Kiora a small bow before grabbing her son’s hand.

The boy’s mother was beautiful. Large wings stretched over the top of her head and folded down her back, stopping just above the knees. She had long, fire-red hair, and freckles dotted her nose.

“It’s fine,” Kiora assured her. “Your son is very sweet.” She smiled at the boy whose chest rose under the compliment.

The mother grabbed the boy and pulled him closer against her leg. “You need to rest before dinner, my lady. I am sure you had a long day.” She smiled through a masked curiosity before gently steering the boy back the way they came.

Kiora heard the boy complaining as his mother lead him away. “But Mom, she feels so nice, I like her.”

“I know,” his mother whispered. “But we mustn’t bother her. Alcander said not to.”

Kiora wanted to call out and ask the mother to bring the little boy back so she could talk to him, but decided against it. Instead, she closed her eyes and began feeling the threads surrounding her. She felt some Shifters’ threads—those were familiar. She found threads that felt similar to the boy and his mother. Those must be the winged people’s threads. She also felt threads similar to Alcander’s true thread—the Taveans. The rest were new and different. She would have to learn them all.

She felt a specific thread standing over to her right, one she recognized. She kept her eyes closed, waiting for it to move. It didn’t. She spoke without opening her eyes.

“Hello, Alcander.”

“Good with threads too. Impressive.”

Kiora opened her eyes to see Alcander leaning against a small tree. His weight was on one leg, the other stretched out, his arms folded casually in front of him.

“Were you coming to check on Emane?” She already knew the answer

“No.”

Kiora shoved the hair out of her face. “Why do you have such a problem with him?”

Alcander pushed himself off the tree, walking proudly towards her. He really was beautiful. It was hard not to notice, even with his attitude. But there was something else that Kiora couldn’t put her finger on. It was like a familiarity she couldn’t explain, like she had known him for years. He sat down next to her.

“Why don’t you?” Alcander asked

“What?”

“Why don’t you have a problem with him? If you are the Solus, then you have more power than you have shown. Doesn’t it bother you that the one who is supposed to protect you is powerless?”

“He is not powerless.” Kiora bristled.

“Nearly,” Alcander said with distaste, looking out at the village. “I can barely feel any magic from him at all, and even that magic is artificial.”

“It’s not only about magic,” Kiora said.

Alcander scoffed. “Magic drives everything.”

“Magic isn’t everything, at least not in my world. My people lived without knowing any kind of magic for the last thousand years. Sometimes magic is the exception.”

Alcander’s eyebrows pulled together.

“Regardless, he is important. He’s already saved my life.”

Alcander finally turned, his look cool and unnerving. “How many times? Once? And how many times have you saved his?”

She opened her mouth to object but nothing came out.

“That’s what I thought.” Alcander turned his face back to the activities of the village. “In answer to your question: I have a problem with him because if you are who you say you are, then he is inadequate.”

“He is not inadequate,” Kiora snapped. “And I don’t understand why you are acting like this. If we are who we say we are, then you knew the Protector would be a Wit—” she stopped herself out of respect for Emane, “would be without magic.”

“I have always had a problem with that particular part. I had hoped the crazy old man got the prophecy wrong.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she said bitterly. “Is there anyone you don’t have a problem with, Alcander?”

His eyebrows pulled together momentarily before relaxing. “Why do you ask?”

“Since I have met you, you have hated Emane and disliked Drustan. You’re obviously not fond of Lomay either. And where I am concerned—” She bit her lip. “I don’t think you have figured that out yet.”

Alcander looked forward with a blank look, too blank. It made Kiora question what he was hiding.

“Perceptive too,” Alcander stated, mildly amused.

“Well?” Kiora said. “Is there anyone you actually like?”

He shrugged. “Lomay is eccentric. You met him.”

“I have never met anyone like him.” Kiora smiled despite herself.

“Nor will you.” Alcander stood and gave her a stiff bow. “My lady.” The bow looked more awkward than the first one had.

Kiora sighed. Clearly she wasn’t going to get an answer. “Please, no bowing.”

“It is a sign of respect.”

“No, it is a sign of submissiveness. I don’t need anyone to feel less than.” Kiora picked at the step she was sitting on, freeing a small sliver of wood before tossing it to the ground. “They do not need to bow to me.”

Alcander looked at her with a truly puzzled face. Then he abruptly turned and left.

“Goodbye,” Kiora muttered as he walked away.